“Clear yourself first,” she exclaimed, “then I will listen to you. As long as that certificate is unexplained I will never return to you as your wife; I will never, never see you again, as far as I can help it, until the whole affair is refuted. I am amazed that you should expect it.” Sir Reginald gazed incredulously at his wife for a moment, as if he thought that his ears must have deceived him. “Is this your last word?” he said in a voice husky with passion. She nodded emphatically. Exasperated beyond endurance, he left her side and walked to the other end of the pier alone. Presently he returned with firm rapid strides, and confronted her with a compression of the lips and a flash in his eyes she had never seen before. Coming to a stop, and standing directly before her, he said: “That was _your_ last word; now hear _mine_. I most solemnly take God to witness”--raising his hat as he spoke--“that I will never receive you back as my wife until you have made the most humble, abject apology that ever came from woman’s lips. You shall abase yourself to the very dust for the shameful injustice you have done _me_.” “Shall I, indeed?” she exclaimed passionately. “You will never see a Saville abased to the dust. I will never apologise and never beg your pardon. Pray do not offer your forgiveness before it is required.” “Very well,” he replied coldly, “there is no more to be said, as you declare that you will never apologise, and I have sworn to yield to no other terms. We shall live for the future as strangers, excepting that I shall exercise over you--even though at a distance--the authority of your guardian till you are twenty-five.” “I shall not submit to your authority!” she interrupted hotly. “Oh yes, you will,” he returned in a cool unmoved tone. “You have as yet to learn that I too have a will--that I am your master--no longer your slave. I am aware I cannot flatter myself that you either love or honour me,” with ironical emphasis, “but you will certainly _obey_ me.” “I shall _not_!” she cried indignantly. “Oh yes, I am quite sure you will,” he replied in the easy authoritative tone with which one talks to a naughty child. “You will live at Monkswood,” he proceeded tranquilly. “It is smaller than Looton, but I hope you will find it as comfortable. Horses, carriages, and servants will precede you there, and I hope all will be ready for your reception in a fortnight’s time. In the meanwhile I must beg you will remain with Helen, as I do not wish you to return to Miss Fane. I forbid you to see her or to correspond with her.” He paused to see the effect of his words, then continued: “Your own aunt, Miss Saville, has been good enough to promise to reside with you permanently, as it would be out of the question for you to live alone.” During the above long speech Alice had been gazing at her husband with amazed indignant eyes. Drawing herself up as he concluded, she said: